Carpe Noctem
by Benji The Vampire Confuser
Summary: Crossover with Buffy the Vampire Slayer. A mysterious orgnization calling themselves the Watchers is recruiting young women. Sloane sends Sydney and the rest of the team to find out why.
1. Default Chapter

**Carpe Noctem**

**Part of the Omniverse Project**

**By Benji The Vampire Confuser**

I do not claim any ownership of either the Buffy franchise, or Alias. Joss Whedon and J.J. Abrams respectively have all claims to them.

Sydney sprawled on the dance floor, sliding a bit before coming to a stop. She reached up with one hand and felt her stinging mouth. Her hand came away wet. The blow had split her lip. Above her, the demonic visage of her attacker leered down at her.

"Ready to scream yet?"

"Oh there's gonna be screaming." She growled. A quick kick of her legs flipped her back to her feet, and a spin brought her fist into his hideous face. The thing staggered back, probably more from surprise than anything, she guessed. Fortunately there was more where that came from.

"Syd!" Vaughn called, fighting his way through the panicking club patrons. He could just make her out between the heads of several Goths. He was going against the current of terrified civilians heading for the exits. But suddenly one face in the crowd stopped moving. And it did not look human.

"Worry about yourself pretty-boy." She said, grabbing his neck and opening her mouth.

Nadia rained blows down on her opponent, who thus far had yet to put up much of a fight.

"Bloody hell woman!" the bleached blonde British sounding…thing bellowed. "I'm a by stander here!"

Nadia merely quirked a skeptical eyebrow before sending a devastating kick at the man before her, which never connected. He moved faster than she'd thought possible and suddenly had her leg in an iron grip.

"I said," he hissed through gritted teeth. "To knock it off!" With a shove, he heaved her over the bar, sending her crashing into the shelves.

Sydney saw stars from the head-butt and wavered. Her assailant grinned again and closed in, seizing her arms and pinning her wrists behind her back. "Dinner time. Thanks for helping me work up an appetite." She gasped as she felt his teeth sink into her throat.

72 HOURS EARLIER

BRUSSELS

Sydney Bristow pelted down the street, barely keeping her quarry in sight. "Six months of reconnaissance, thousands of tax-payer dollars, all to find Virgil Hastings and pin down a location for the son of a bitch, and this mystery woman comes out of no where and cuts off his head with a damn battle-axe!" she thought, following the fleeing murderer down an alley.

Not that she was shedding any tears over the man's death, he'd been selling weapons to various terrorist organizations for years, not to mention a strange fascination with eight year old boys. But tonight they could have caught him in the act, gotten him and his contact, and then milked the bastards for all the intel they were worth. All down the drain because of one vigilante.

CLANG!

Sydney's quick reflexes allowed her to get her arms up in time to block the trash-can that the young woman had swung at her, but the force of the impact knocked her off her feet, sending her splashing down in a puddle of what she hoped was only water. Damn, the bitch was strong.

"Ain't goin' back." Was all the brunette said as she ran off again.

"God damnit!" Faith cursed, hearing the woman begin her pursuit again. "Six months tracking that Keilar Demon, thousands of hours of research, and I wind up in a bad spy movie!"

How the hell was she to know that the CIA had been after that guy? Hell, she'd done them a favor, he would have wiped out any normal people that tried to take him alive.

On the other hand, once she managed to ditch her pursuer, she'd have one hell of a story to tell Buffy. How many Slayers could say they'd managed to kill a major bad ass Demon in Human Disguise, and have the soon to be meal say, instead of thank you, "Freeze, CIA"?

IF she managed to lose her pursuer, she amended. This lady was one persistent bugger.

"Bugger? Damn, been talking to Rupert too many times." She dodged into another alley and leaped onto a dumpster, scaling a short wall into someone's backyard. No good, she heard the sounds of pursuit anyway. And was that a siren?

A searchlight slammed onto the ground to her left, looking for her. "Son of a Bitch!" she felt like screaming. This was not her year. First her boyfriend, her first ever steady boyfriend, disappears after a recruiting mission, along with his entire flight. Now this.

"We've got her Sydney." Dixon said over the comm., aiming the searchlight from the chopper. "Heading west towards the warehouse district." He watched the girl run full out, longer than anyone he'd ever seen maintain that kind of pace.

"I think we've finally brought her to ground." He smiled. "She just entered a warehouse, number-"

The explosion was blinding, and could have been deafening had they been on street level. The pilot barely managed to keep the chopper from veering from the shockwave.

"Oh my God…"

Sydney looked in shock at the enormous blaze before her. Her back felt raw from where the blast had knocked her flat on the street. Her wig lay right where she'd been standing when the shockwave had hit her.

"Dixon," she asked quietly. "Was that the warehouse she just went into?"

"Yes." Came the answer.

RIO DE JENAIRO

Willow cried out in pain as the amulet she wore around her neck burned.

"Willow what's wrong?" Kennedy asked, her face pinched with worry.

"It-it's Faith." Willow whispered. "She's…" she looked at the now cool amulet. "She's gone."

LOS ANGELES

Sloan looked at the assembled team solemnly before continuing his briefing. Sydney was taking the failure in Brussels hard, though he, Dixon, and Vaughn had assured her there was no reason to blame herself.

A picture of the girl who had killed Virgil Hastings was showing on the view screen. A mug shot from an arrest 4 years ago.

"We've identified the explosive used in the bombing in Brussels as a modified version of the plasma charge the Covenant attempted to procure last year." He began.

"How could the Covenant have gotten hold of one?" Vaughn immediately wanted to know. "We have the only ones and the inventor is in custody."

"We don't know that it was the Covenant." Sloane told him. "It's possible that Ms. Faith had one on her, and knowing that escape was impossible, chose to end her life rather than face capture, and a return to prison."

"Do we know for a fact that she's dead?" Jack asked.

"We've identified the corpse through dental records." He answered.

"I see."

"This all leaves us with a new problem." The briefing continued. "Virgil Hastings was our last link to the Harbingers of Skulls. Much as it pains me, we're going to have to shelve that case until further intel becomes available. However, Faith's interference in the op. has called to our attention a new possible threat."

As he spoke, photos of each person appeared on the screen behind him. "Buffy Anne Summers, her sister Dawn Summers, Rupert Giles, Alexander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, Robin Wood, and Andrew Wells. Along with the Dear Departed Faith Lehane, they form the inner circle of a group calling themselves the Watchers."

"The Watchers?" Jack said, surprised. "I thought they were wiped out in 2002?"

The others nodded. Vaughn knew that The Watchers had been low on the CIA's threat list, but were still kept under close surveillance. He didn't know much about them however, as he'd been assigned to the Alliance case.

Through their association with SD6 and it's own Watch List, Dixon and Sydney both knew that the Watchers were a groups of Occult Scholars based in London.

"Just so everyone is on the same page," Jack said. "The Watchers were a secret society of Occult Scholars based in London. They had probably the largest library of related texts in the world."

"Let me guess," Sydney said. "You know this because you got a Rambaldi manuscript from them?"

"Almost." Sloane said. "I had agents infiltrate their organization in case they did have anything Rambaldi related. They did not. They did however have a secret agenda. Primarily, as I said, they were scholars. But they also, had been recruiting young women."

"Recruiting them for what?"

"Assassins." Sloane said simply. "The intel I managed to gather suggested that The Watchers believed that the world was populated by Demons. The purpose of these girls was to combat these forces."

Sydney was appalled. "That's insane." She whispered. "How old were these girls?"

"Sometimes they were infants when they were taken." Sloane said quietly. He knew Sydney must be thinking of Project Christmas, a government program to train children as sleeper agents. One such subject had killed Syd's best friend three years ago. Even Sydney had been subjected to it once upon a time.

"The Watchers only ever sent one girl at a time. When one fell, they were ready with another." He cycled through various photographs, each one more recent. It ended with the photos of Buffy and a black girl side by side. Then the black girl was replaced with Faith. "Several years ago that changed, when they briefly had two agents in the field at once." He ran down a quick bio on Buffy Summers, born and raised in California, recruited by the Watchers in high school…arson, suspected homicide, suspected accessory to homicide, suspected domestic terrorism…

"What did she have against high schools?" Marshall asked. "I mean, my school was no picnic, I got picked on every day, and about once a week I'd get beat up, maybe a swirly or two…" he realized everyone was staring at him.

"Marshall." Jack said.

"I just mean, I never tried to burn down or blow up my school."

"Ms. Summers, during her stay in Sunnydale California recruited Mr. Harris and Ms. Rosenberg to the cause." His story continued, how Buffy's handler, Rupert Giles had gotten a job as the school librarian, Faith's emergence and subsequent murder charge, for which she'd turned herself in a year later, only to escape from prison and re-join the Watchers' cause.

"Lastly, Mr. Wells, suspected homicide, armed robbery…you get the picture.

"In 2002, the Watchers were supposedly wiped out. Either by a splinter group, or by another organization entirely we don't know. Their headquarters was bombed, and the girls they'd recruited were killed. Mr. Giles and these others however survived. And they seem to have stepped up their agenda significantly. Instead of one girl at a time, they seem to be raising an army. Over 40 girls so far, from nearly every corner of the globe.

"Mr. Wells and Mr. Giles appear to have set up a training facility in England. Ms. Rosenberg has recruited several girls in South America, Ms. Summers and her sister have been spotted in Rome. Mr. Harris, as I'm sure you've heard was recently involved in a hostage situation in Africa.

"But we don't have to go overseas just yet. We think we have the name of their next target. Ms. Juliana Miller of Washington DC, 16 years old." A surveillance photo of a young woman in full goth regalia appeared behind Sloane. "She frequents a club called Nation, every Thursday night. Nadia, Vaughn, Sydney, you're on point. Locate Ms. Miller and keep an eye on her. Tag her with a tracer if possible. For now this is merely a threat assessment matter.

"The Watchers have more potential to be a threat to National Security than they have in the past. If any of the inner circle show up, apprehend them. Otherwise, just keep an eye out, ID any possible contacts. Above all keep Ms. Miller safe. Whatever this army their recruiting is for, let's try to keep anymore Alison Dorens from being created."

To Be Continued…


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_AN: Though this story started out as just a Buffy/Alias Crossover, it seems to have grown into other genres as well. Therefore, a second disclaimer is needed here. Agent John Dogget and the X-Files are the property of Chris Carter and Ten Thirteen. The Kindred are the property of White Wolf Games. Lorne falls under Joss' jurisdiction as well._

"Okay," Marshall began. "Now in a club like this, there's gonna be a lot of people looking, y'know, kinda weird. Like, Marilyn Manson weird, though there's a lot of debate about whether he's actually Goth or not, cause see, he's kinda mainstream now, and that alienates a lot of…so anyway Juliana might be kinda hard to ID depending on how made up she is. Likewise, any of our big, what is it like, what, seven suspects? Except that, Wood guy got like, lost at sea or something.

"But with these babies," He slipped on a pair of dark sun-glasses. "Look just like an ordinary pair of bad-ass shades right? The kind that Wesley Snipes wore in Blade or Arnie in Terminator. But they also, have the ability to see body heat, can filter out smoke, laser lighting, the kind of stuff you're likely to have a lot of in a place like that, and, a camera that feeds into my new face recognition program. You see a possibility, just tap the side like so,"

The glasses took a picture of Sydney, Nadia, and Vaughn, and on the monitor of Marshall's laptop, the photo appeared, filtering through pictures of the three of them in various disguises.

"See? Now it's easier with you guys since we have so many pictures of you, but you get the idea."

"I'll be at the entrance filling in for a bouncer who's going to call in sick." Dixon said. "I'll let you know if Juliana or any known members of the Watchers enter the club."

"Oh," Marshall said, picking up what looked like a pocket flashlight. "Now, this club requires you to be 18 with ID right, so our little friend will probably be using a fake ID, which usually works pretty well cause, bouncers never really look too closely, not, that I've ever-"

"Marshall."

"Right, so anyway, this little baby works just like a flashlight, but it's also got a sensor that will pick up any imperfections common to fake ID's. Now it's designed for subtlety so it's just gonna heat up a little when it picks up anything."

"All right," Nadia said. "Let's get to DC and turn ourselves into weirdoes."

**ROME**

Buffy sat numbly on the couch, the phone receiver held up to her ear. "Willow are you sure?"

"Well," Willow began. "These medallions aren't quite an exact science, but when I try to find her…"

"What happened?"

"I'm not sure. I know that she killed the Keilar Demon, but it seems that she ran into trouble afterwards. I've managed to find reports from Brussels of a police chase, and an explosion. But there's no details available."

Buffy let out a shuddering breath. "Okay, keep looking okay? I'll call Giles."

**WASHINGTON DC**

"Agent Bristow?" the man asked, as Jack entered the basement office. Jack looked around for a moment. His sources were right, the X-Files really were shunted to the absolute back burner of importance. Sloane would have been appalled if he actually cared about the FBI.

"Agent Dogget." Jack greeted. "Thank you for taking the time."

"Not at all." Dogget said, though he was guarded. Why would the CIA be interested in the X-Files? They never had been before, not openly anyway. "But I don't know how much help I can give you. We're pretty low on the food chain down here."

"Yes I can see that." Jack wondered briefly if Dogget's predecessor Mulder would have run across Rambaldi in his myriad investigations, then inwardly winced. Sloane's obsession must be starting to get to him. "I need any information your office has collected on these individuals."

John Dogget took the file folder from Bristow and glanced through it. "Buffy Summers, Sunnydale California."

"I understand that former Agents Mulder and Scully investigated the town several years ago."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Came the answer. "I've heard a bit about that place. It was kinda famous on the occult front before it sank." He went to the file cabinets and began searching. "Unfortunately most of the hard copy files were destroyed when the office caught fire a while back. Dunno if we'll be able to find anything."

While John was looking, Jack took the opportunity to stick a microphone on the underside of his desk. If the government really was actively working against the X-Files investigations, as he'd heard that Mulder had claimed, then this little eavesdropping mission would probably come for naught. He imagined that Dogget probably had his office regularly swept for bugs. But it was worth a shot, as Sloane had said.

"Well, nothing on Summers," Dogget said finally. "But here's some info on Sunnydale. Mulder kept tabs on the place looks like. Never went back there, but he liked to keep informed I guess."

Jack flipped through the file, the camera in his tie pin taking high resolution photos of each page. Even from a cursory examination, Jack started to wonder if maybe, just maybe, these Watchers were on to something.

* * *

"Now look up." Rebecca said, applying eyeliner to Sydney's bottom lid. Though the agents were competent in creating their own disguises on the go, when there was time, the CIA had professional make-up and wardrobe people for the job. Today, Sydney, Michael, Dixon and Nadia found themselves in the hands of Rebecca. Specially brought in by the CIA for assignments such as this.

"You know we're not trying to stand out." Sydney told her, hoping to forestall anything too elaborate. "We're supposed to blend in."

"Honey, in this place, in order to blend in, you have to stand out. Trust me, I know."

Sydney believed it. Rebecca wasn't just any make-up lady, she was a goth make-up lady. From her spiked hair, ripped black t-shirt and jeans, combat boots and even fake vampire fangs, Rebecca was only several layers of eyeliner away from being ready to hit the club circuit herself.

Vaughn came out of the dressing room looking down at himself. "Is this really necessary?" he asked plaintively.

"What's the matter?" Rebecca asked, finishing up the lightning bolt emerging from the corner of Sydney's right eye. "You object to being clean-shaven for once?"

"I'm wearing a dress." He pointed out. Rebecca had taken one look at him and handed him a floor length black gown, tight from the waist up, sleeves down to his wrists and a high collar, but it flared out at the hips, in a skirt that just missed the floor. "I look like I'm about to audition for Hellraiser."

"Exactly." Rebecca said. "You look great sweetie, and don't worry, you'll hardly be the most effeminate guy there."

"I'm not sure that makes me feel any better."

* * *

The sun had barely set on the nation's capitol when his bell rang. He checked his appointment book. Yep, right after sunset. Dorian and friend. He'd rented the small apartment above the club a few months ago, and started getting back to what he felt he was meant to do. Council those what needed counseling.

He opened the door with a friendly smile, which soon changed into a look of shock. "Oh God, Spike?"

The bleached blond Vampire, though his roots were starting to show, looked confused for a moment.

"Lorne?"

"Well paint me blue and call me a smurf, how'd you find me?"

"I didn't." Spike grinned. "Didn't have any clue you were the one Dorian here was raving about."

"You know each other?" the girl with Spike asked, surprised. As they entered, she took off her sunglasses, revealing yellow, catlike eyes. Combined with her pointed ears, they gave her an other worldly look. Dorian was small, Lorne noted. Probably about the same size as Buffy if the descriptions of the blond slayer were accurate. Small but lovely. Lorne gave Spike an approving smile.

"Oh blondie and I go back aways." Lorne said, taking their coats and hanging them on the rack. "Blood?"

"Please."

Lorne opened his refrigerator. "I don't have human, is pig okay?"

"That's lovely, thanks." Dorian said, sitting on the sofa, pulling Spike down beside her.

"So I guess you survived after all eh?" their host said, while pouring their drinks.

"We all did." Came the reply. "Well, nearly all. Wesley never made it to the alley. But the rest of us…actually mate, no one's supposed to know we're alive. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, we're dead. Part of the whole sacrificing our lives bit. It's complicated. So anyway, it's not Spike anymore. Call me William."

"Will do kiddo." Lorne grinned, bringing them two glasses of blood.

"I have to ask," William asked. "What's with the new look? I didn't recognize you at all."

"Oh this?" Lorne gestured to his human face. "Just a glamour I got about a week after our big to-do. You like?"

"Well it's different at any rate."

"Thanks." Lorne frowned playfully at him. "Last Halloween I took it off and went to a few parties. Folks loved my costume.

"So anyway, what brings you young lovers to me door? Dorian said something about wanting to know if it's worth it?"

"Well I met William six months ago at a poetry slam." Dorian explained, her southern belle accent adding to her beauty. "And we hit it off, but, well we've both been burned, sometimes literally, by relationships in the past. I'd heard about you through the grapevine, and thought…"

"I get it." Lorne smiled gently at her. "Well I know Spi-er, Will's sordid history with the ladies, care to share your story?"

Dorian looked down, and her expression became pained. "I don't like to talk, or even think about it actually." She said. William laid a comforting hand on her leg, and she grasped it gratefully.

"That's okay." Lorne said. "Well then, why don't we get started. Do you have something already, or would you like to have a look at my catalogue?"

Dorian grinned, her fangs showing. "Actually we did have something specific in mind." William looked embarrassed.

Lorne started the karaoke machine and sat back, his eyes closed.

"Turn around," William started singing.

"Every now and then I get a little bit lonely but I don't know what I miss," Dorian continued.

"Turn around,"

"Every now and then I get a little bit desperate and I wonder what it is I desire,"

It was coming. In bits and pieces. Spike's worries, his past relationships, Drusilla, Buffy, Harmony. He wanted desperately to do right by Dorian, but was terrified that she'd leave him.

"Turn around,"

"Every now and then I get a little bit nervous that the best of all the years have gone by,"

Dorian's past was pain. He winced as he felt her torment and fear. Her last, and only lover had not been kind. And it had not been a consensual relationship.

"Turn around,"

"Every now and then I get a little bit terrified and then I see the look in your eyes."

"Turn around, bright eyes,"

"Every now and then I hear a voice,"

He saw their first meeting. He'd read his poem about Cecily and, though she wasn't a big poetry fan, in fact she was just there to look for food, he'd touched her. And of course she found him as sexy as all getout.

"Turn around bright eyes,"

"Every now and then I hear,"

"Turn around,"

"Every now and then I get a little bit restless and I dream of something wild."

The secret of her existence was so closely kept that not even Spike's kind were supposed to know they existed. They both harbored fears over that.

"Turn around,"

"Every now and then I get a little bit helpless and I'm lying like a child in your arms."

"Turn around,"

"Every now and then I get a little bit curious what it's like to be a woman and free."

William had not wanted to love her. After being left by his first love, made a shambles of his relationship with Harmony, and, wow, almost raping Buffy, he'd been fighting this from the very beginning.

"Turn around,"

"Every now and then I get a little bit terrified but then I see you coming for me."

But he did love her.

"Turn around Bright Eyes,"

"Every now and then I fall apart,"

Very much. And she him. There were gonna be problems of course, what relationship didn't? But they'd work them out.

"And I need you now tonight, and I need you more than ever. And if you'll only hold me tight, then we'll be holding on forever."

But wait,

"And we'll only be making it right, and we'll never be wrong, together we can take it to the end of the line, my love is like a shadow on you all of the time."

Speaking of trials, damn, there was a doozy coming up soon. It was hard to read though. It seemed, convoluted was the only word he could think of to describe it.

"I don't know what to do and I'm always in the dark,"

"We're living in a powder keg and giving off sparks,"

International conspiracies, mistaken identities, misunderstandings. He couldn't make heads or tails out of it.

"I really need you tonight, forever's gonna start tonight. Forever's gonna start,"

"Once upon a time I was falling in love, now I'm only falling apart."

"Nothing I can do, a total eclipse of the heart,"

"Okay kids," Lorne stopped them. "I think I've got enough to go on."

Dorian noticed he looked strained, and worried.

"What's wrong? What did you see?"

"Okay well the good news is that you really do love each other, and you're gonna see each other through thick and thin. The bad news is, there's gonna be a lot to see each other through in the future. And not the distant future either."

"What do you mean Mate?" William demanded. "Is there another bloody apocalypse coming?"

"There's always an apocalypse coming." Lorne said. "But honestly I can't figure out what I just saw. Just, you know, watch your back I guess."

"You look like you could use a drink." William said.

"God yes. Care to join me?"

* * *

It almost seemed as though the club had as tight security as the CIA. Sydney, Vaughn and Nadia passed through three check points, one to check their ID, another to be searched for weapons, and then a third to check their tickets.

Fortunately it was Dixon, resplendent in biker leathers, including a fearsome skull jutting from each shoulder, was the one to search them, so they had no problems.

"Good thing we're all over 18!" Sydney had to yell over the music.

* * *

"Oh, my freaking God." Jason mumbled as he, Emily and Lane entered the club. "Why oh why did I let you talk me into this?"

"You should be used to this kinda crap by now!" Lane grinned at her werewolf companion. "Half the kids at SU are actors right?"

"Point taken!"

"You see our girl yet?" Emily asked. "I could try a locater spell, but it'd be risky with all these distractions!"

Lane shrugged. "Red Witch said she comes here every Thursday. She'll be here eventually. In the meantime, try to relax!"

"Relax?" Jason asked incredulously. "Do you know how many Vampires I smell in here?"

"You think they're here for Juliana?" Emily asked worriedly.

"Hell, place like this, Vampires must come in here all the time! If you can get one alone stake his ass, but we're not here to start trouble tonight! This' gonna be Jules' turf once we get her trained up!"

Jason let his nose do the looking as they headed for a couch set up against the wall. "Five Vampires in this room alone!" he said in Emily's ear, eliciting a shiver. He loved doing that to her. Jason, a werewolf for a few years now had come into his heightened sense of smell and had made himself even more valuable an asset to the Scoobies of Winchester Virginia. Though even as a werewolf, he considered himself far more normal than his friends. He was about to graduate from Shenandoah University and hoped to maybe play professional football, although he didn't know if he'd be able to leave the glamorous life of demon-slaying behind.

Emily loved it when he whispered in her ear. Of course whispering wasn't really the case, even that close, he had to yell to be heard over the din. To think that two years ago when they'd all met, she couldn't stand him. Of course, being a pagan, she'd been somewhat of an anathema to him as well. But being thrown into one life-threatening situation after another had brought them closer than either had anticipated.

"You two stay here and try not to make any babies!" Lane said, rising. "I'm gonna to check in!"

As she sauntered away, Jason mumbled to himself "Like she's one to talk."

Lane was careful to present a tough front to the world. Her father had been long absent from her life, and her mother was locked in a losing battle with drugs. The only thing that had given her life meaning was her band.

Then Vampires had attacked during one of her shows in her hometown and everything had changed. That was when she'd met Emily, Jason, James, her watcher, and Joe. The unsuspecting father of her child.

Only two people got to see past her façade. Joe, who was long out of the picture, and Sarah, her two year old daughter.

Reaching a quiet part of the club, Lane pulled out her cell phone and dialed. "Vexen? Hey, just letting you know we got here in one piece. Tell James there's no sign of her yet. Any action on the home front?"

"Nope, pretty quiet tonight." Came the confidant voice on the other end of the line.

"Cool. Sarah give you much trouble?"

"Nah we got the best baby sitters in the world down here. Kid's sacked out with the Ferret."

"Great. See you later. Keep the that place in one piece you hear?"

She hung up and looked towards the entrance. There she was. Just like the picture Willow had shown them. God could the world handle another punk/goth slayer? It already had Faith and Lane. The forces of Darkness would start thinking they'd been betrayed by their own.

* * *

"That's her." Marshall said over the comm.

Dixon did not answer, just handed Juliana Miller back her ID. "Have a good time." He told her and waved her inside.

Sydney barely heard Marshall over the comm., but got the gist of the message. She turned to her sister. "She's here."

Across the club, Lane walked quickly to her scoobies, having spotted their target coming into the club. "She's here."

**To Be Continued…**


	3. Chapter 3

_Continuity Note: This story takes place between the first and second episodes of the fourth season._

_The Song used in this chapter is When You're Evil by Voltaire._

**Chapter 3**

Sydney immediately began searching for Juliana. Marshall had been right, in the dim light, with all the makeup, and hair styles and costumes, it was hard to make out who was who. She saw a few people who looked like they could be her, but she wasn't sure.

Thank god for Marshall's tech.

"Vaughn, time to go Matrix." She said. He was the one with the shades. She'd given them to him because it made his gown seem more like the coat that Keanu Reeves had worn in the second two matrix movies.

She subtly pointed out the possible suspects and he used the camera to take pictures, sending them to Marshall.

In the van parked outside, Marshall watched as the computer spat out negative match after negative match. "Damn," he thought. "Goth girls are hot!"

Finally, he found the girl they were looking for.

"Got it!" he shouted into the comm., making sure Sydney could hear him. "She's the one across the room, on those risers by the dance floor!"

The computer beeped, showing him something that made his eyes widen. "Oh boy."

"She's over on the risers." Sydney said. "Vaughn, go offer to buy her a drink. We can slip the tracer on her then."

Marshall's voice shouted dimly in her ear. "Hang on." She headed into the restroom, and ducked into a stall, pulling out her cell phone. If anyone heard her talking, they'd just think she was on the phone.

Vaughn started over towards the risers quelling an awkward feeling. He'd just killed his wife a little less than a year ago, and now here he was about to flirt with someone? Then came the guilt. Suppose Juliana decided she really liked him? Was he just doing exactly what Lauren had done?

He angrily shoved his misgivings aside. For one thing, he was just buying a girl a drink. For another, she was a minor, there was not really going to be any flirting going on.

Where'd she go? Crap. While he'd been angsting she'd left the risers. There was a crowd forming around the stage, and he turned his gaze towards the commotion. A man wearing a skull sweater had started playing guitar.

"When the devil is too busy, and death's a bit too much," the man sang.

Great, Goth music.

"They call on me, by name you see, for my special touch."

Where had Juliana gone? He reached up for the shades to try filtering out the distractions.

"To the Gentlemen I'm misfortune. To the ladies I'm surprise."

Oh. Okay. That wasn't weird at all.

"What's wrong Marshall?" Sydney asked, as she entered the bathroom.

"Syd! The girl talking to-"

"You don't have to shout I'm away from the noise."

"Oh, sorry. Anyway the computer recognized the girl talking to Juliana. Her name's Lane Geerson, she was with the group in Sunnydale."

Sydney paled, and thanked him quickly, exiting the stall.

Vaughn met her on her way out. "Syd you're not going to believe this," he said, his mouth close to her ear so she could hear him. "I went through the other frequencies on Marshall's shades. There's at least five people in this room alone who aren't giving off any body heat."

"And it's so easy when you're evil,"

Nadia stayed by her post at the bar. Almost everyone in this room seemed to stop by here sooner or later, and if Juliana did, she'd be ready. Vaughn had lost her, and now he was talking heatedly with Sydney.

She let her gaze float over the crowd, most seemed to have gravitated towards the stage. If Juliana was in there it would be hard to discreetly find her. Several others caught her attention, however briefly. There was a fading-bleached blonde haired man in a black leather duster sitting at the bar with a shorter girl wearing sunglasses and fake pointed ears. There was a fairly normal looking boy sitting with an only slightly less normal looking girl. They were both scanning the crowd as carefully as she. She made a mental note about that. Also the couple necking in the shadows, except that to her, it didn't quite look like the woman was volunteering.

"This is the life you see, the devil tips his hat to me,"

God Juliana loved this song. It had cracked her up the first time she'd heard it, even more when her parents had been horrified by it. They hadn't realized it was sarcastic. They'd even tried to forbid her to listen to it. Yeah right. That worked about as well as their attempts to keep her from smoking pot had.

"March with me!" Voltaire said, and raising her fist in the air, she started to march in place with her gothic brethren.

"I pledge, my allegiance, to all things dark and I, promise on my damned soul, to do as I am told! For Beelzebub has never seen, a soldier quite like me…"

She was starting to feel kind of weird. Juliana couldn't quite figure out why, or exactly how to describe the feeling, but for some reason she was reminded of the dreams she'd started having two years ago.

She started to go back through the crowd away from the stage. What the hell was wrong with her? Her stomach was twisting in knots and she hadn't even had anything to drink yet!

"Can I get you a drink?"

Okay that was just a little weird. The guy who'd approached her looked like he'd never worn a gown before. And shades in this place? Poser. But he was cute, in a past 30 kind of way.

"I don't drink."

"I'm the fear that keeps you awake, I'm the shadows on the wall, I'm the monsters they become, I'm the nightmare in your skull,"

William had been doing a fine job of ignoring the many vampires in the club. It grated, he wanted to beat the unliving crap out of them and stake them. But Dorian had convinced him that in this case, discretion was the better part of valor. There were a few of her own kind of Vampire in the club that night, and they did not like attention being drawn to the undead.

Dorian grasped his hand tightly. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm all right." He sighed. Lorne had long since fled the scene, he said he had no desire to read Voltaire that night. "Just doesn't feel right. There's a bloke feeding over in the corner, and I can't do anything about it because I might give the wrong vampires away."

"Speaking of which," she muttered, as a young man in one of the more unusual outfits in the place approached them. He couldn't have been more than 5'5'', but the soles of his boots added at least two feet to his height. He was also wearing a pleather one piece jumpsuit, whose sleeves formed strait jacket straps.

"Gotta be Malkavian." She said. "Wait here."

The other half of the club was more Industrial than Goth. Here the rivet-heads and punks ruled. In particular, a girl with hot pink hair, lounging in one of the seats on the balcony above the dance floor.

"Du, du hast, du hast meche," blared from the speakers as Dorian approached the seneschal of DC. Her escort could never have negotiated the stairs, so he didn't bother.

"Unknown Gangrel isn't enough to get the prince's personal attention eh?" she asked, sinking into the chair across from him.

The seneschal took a drag from the joint he was smoking and looked at her. "Nope." He said. "hell, I don't really give two shits about it either. Just wanted to make sure you knew this was a Camarilla city. You follow the traditions you'll have no problems, long as you're just here tonight. Wanna stay any longer and THEN maybe you get to talk to Nevermore."

"It gets so lonely, being evil."

Enough was enough. William had been called many things in his time. But a coward, was never one of them.

"What I'd do to see a smile, even for a little while."

He grabbed the feeding vampire by the throat and pulled him into the deepest shadows.

"And no one loves you when you're evil."

With the element of surprise, he had little trouble putting the wooden stake to it's proper use. He glanced around, making sure that no one had seen what had happened. Fortunately everyone, even the other Vampires were too busy paying attention to the performer.

Except for the shocked blond punk/goth half native American Slayer.

"Holy shit," Lane gasped. "SPIKE?!"

"Bloody Hell."

"I'm lyin' through my teeth, your tears are all the company I need."

**To be continued…**


	4. Chapter 4

_Another Disclaimer. Changeling The Dreaming is trademarked by White Wolf Games. The song at the end of the chapter is Demonslayer by Voltaire._

**Chapter 4**

"What the hell?" Lane demanded. "Buffy said you were dead! She said you went all holy light and glowy and burned up! In fact that was her exact wording!"

"I did." William said, wracking his brain for what to say, some way to get out of this conversation with his secret intact. "In fact I am dead. I'm not here, you're just seeing things."

Lane crossed her arms and glowered. "Seeing things like you stake the Vampire I was about to dust?"

Shit.

"Yes. Must have been an optical illusion caused by all the weird lighting in here."

In hindsight, he decided what he should have done was deny being Spike. She might have bought that. Right?

She grabbed him by the front of his jacket. "Okay so if you're a hallucination how come I can touch you?"

"Is there a problem here?"

William and Lane turned to find three bouncer types facing them, their arms crossed.

"Private conversation gents. Bit of a lover's spat. Nothing to concern yourselves with."

"That so Spike?"

William frowned. Now that he looked more closely, the biggest one did look kind of familiar. When he went Vamp face, the resemblance was solidified.

"Oh hell." he sighed. "Didn't recognize you without the fangs. Lane, former minion. Former minion, Slayer."

"I thought the slayer was shorter than that." One of the other Vampires said, confused.

William sighed and leaned towards Lane. "Look, I have my reasons for remaining dead if you know what I mean. Can we keep this just between us?"

"You know Buffy'd kick my ass if she found out I was keeping this from her."

"So don't let her find out. I died saving the world." Twice actually, was the thought running through his head. "Leave it."

Lane sighed. "Fine. You still remember how to kick ass?"

"Do I ever."

* * *

Vaughn grinned as he handed Juliana her coke. "I haven't been carded in years, that was great."

Juliana gave him a slight smile.

"So," Vaughn continued, seeing Nadia approach subtly. "You come here often?"

_Oh. My. God._ Juliana thought. _A guy the same age as my older brother just gave me the oldest line in the book._ Someone tripped behind her and grabbed her shoulder for balance. "Hey!" she cried, her drink spilling a bit. "Watch it!"

"Sorry." Nadia apologized, grimacing. "Someone spilled something over here, it caught my shoe." She shot Vaughn a look, hoping he'd get the message. The tracer was in place. Now if they could get one on Lane Geerson-

"Fight!"

Just f-ing perfect.

* * *

Sydney had been keeping an eye on Lane. Marshall said that the two she'd been talking to were not in their files, and was running a check. But the man she was confronting now had been in Sunnydale near the end. However he had no records at all.

She backed off a bit when the bouncers got involved. Then all hell broke loose. Lane leapt at the trio of bouncers, and blondie followed suit. Someone in the crowd yelled "Fight!", and she was almost run down by the crowd of onlookers.

William bashed his opponent with a chair, then noticed the crowd that had gathered. Several people, and other things, were starting in their direction.

"Hell." He growled. So much for keeping a low profile. He hated running from a fight, but he couldn't afford to draw this much attention to himself, or his new lady. Time to find Dorian and get out. Lane's Scoobies were on their way anyway. She'd be fine. Slayers with friends had a way of getting out of pretty tough scrapes.

A right hook from one of the Vampires forced a deep growl from his throat, and reflexively he put his game face on. "Fine." He hissed.

A mighty heave sent his opponent onto the stage, eliciting a frightened "Eep!" from the multi pierced guitarist who'd been in the middle of his set.

He turned to head in the direction Dorian had gone when he bumped into someone coming in the opposite direction. The Hispanic looking girl gasped at the sight of his face, and immediately began wailing on him.

Fighting her way through the crowd, Sydney arrived at the site of the struggle. Helping one of the fallen bouncers to his feet, she prepared to enter the fray and possibly take into custody a member of the Watchers. She wasn't expecting said bouncer to sprout fangs and hit her hard enough to send her sprawling.

She landed on the dance floor, sliding a bit before coming to a stop. Reeling, she reached up with one hand and felt her stinging mouth. Her hand came away wet. The blow had split her lip. Above her, the demonic visage of her attacker leered down at her.

"Ready to scream yet?"

"Oh there's gonna be screaming." She growled. A quick kick of her legs flipped her back to her feet, and a spin brought her heel into his hideous face. The thing staggered back, probably more from surprise than anything, she guessed. Fortunately there was more where that came from.

"Syd!" Vaughn called, fighting his way through the panicking club patrons. He could just make her out between the heads of several Goths. He was going against the current of terrified civilians heading for the exits. But suddenly one face in the crowd stopped moving. And it did not look human.

"Worry about yourself pretty-boy." She said, grabbing his neck and opening her mouth.

Nadia rained blows down on her opponent, who thus far had yet to put up much of a fight.

"Bloody hell woman!" the bleached blond British sounding…thing bellowed. "I'm a by stander here!"

Nadia merely quirked a skeptical eyebrow before sending a devastating kick at the man before her, which never connected. He moved faster than she'd thought possible and suddenly had her leg in an iron grip.

"I said," he hissed through gritted teeth. "To knock it off!" With a shove, he heaved her over the bar, sending her crashing into the shelves.

Sydney saw stars from the head-butt and wavered. Her assailant grinned again and closed in, seizing her arms and pinning her wrists behind her back. "Dinner time. Thanks for helping me work up an appetite." She gasped as she felt his teeth sink into her throat.

* * *

"Hey there's a brawl going on in the Goth room!" somebody called from the main floor. Dorian whirled, but the seneschal stopped her. "Stay here. The last thing we need is for Kindred to get involved in a mortal brawl."

"Mah boyfriend is in there." Dorian growled, rising.

"A lot of people's boyfriends are in there." He said calmly. "The bouncers can handle it."

"Your bouncers are lesser Vampires." She sneered.

"I know. It makes them very effective. Don't worry we have them under tight control. And that makes it even more imperative that the Kindred not get involved." His eyes narrowed and he held her gaze. "Now sit. Down."

Her body refused to obey her commands, and sat. But the arms of the chair would never recover from the assault they received from her claws.

Using the respite, the William returned his face to what it had looked like before all the ruckus had started. Straitening his coat, he strode towards her calmly. "Now if you're ready to be reasona-"

*BLAM!*

Blood erupted from his knee, and he looked down in shock. "What the-" Two more shots brought him down, if not necessarily out.

"Nadia!" Dixon yelled over the screaming patrons. "Where are Sydney and Vaughn?"

William tried to rise, but was hit by six more shots from Dixon's gun.

Nadia struggled to her feet, taking Dixon's helping hand gratefully. "Somewhere in the crowd." She answered.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'll be fine. Is he-" she pointed to the man Dixon had shot.

A quick check revealed no pulse. "He's dead. Let's get our partners and get out of here. This op just got way out of control."

Vaughn twisted out of the thing's grip, wishing he'd been given a garment with some sort of pockets for concealing weapons. Fortunately he was far from helpless.

He grabbed the woman's wrist, twisting it and pulling her into an arm lock. She winced, but brought her leg up in a kick that knocked the wind out of him.

"I like a little spice in my meal." She laughed and reached for him again. A sudden blow to the back of her head however knocked her cold.

"Jesus Christ," Juliana muttered, helping Vaughn to his feet. "What the hell is going on?"

Vaughn gasped for breath. "I don't know. Juliana, we've got to get out of here."

Juliana drew back. "I never told you my name, how did-"

"My name is Michael Vaughn. I'm with the CIA. I'll explain once I've gotten you out of harm's way."

Sydney felt the life drain from her as her struggles got weaker and weaker. Dimly, she heard shouting, gunfire, then the roar of what sounded like a lion or something. Then suddenly her attacker was gone and she collapsed onto the floor.

"She's lost a lot of blood." Emily said urgently. "We've got to get her to a hospital."

Jason nodded. "Right. Lane! How we doing?"

Lane appeared beside him, brushing Vamp Dust from her jacket. "Vamps are dusted. Where's Juliana?"

"Must've booked when it hit the fan." Jason said.

"Damn." She looked down at the almost Vampire food. "She gonna be okay?"

"If we get her medical attention right now." Her witch friend answered.

Lane nodded. "Okay this mission's a bust. I'll call G Man tomorrow. Let's go." Lane grabbed her medallion, and disappeared. Jason did the same, and Emily followed, taking Sydney with her.

"Where's Sydney?" Vaughn demanded as he and Juliana joined Dixon and Nadia outside the club. "I lost sight of her in the fighting."

"I don't know." Dixon said tersely. "Marshall do you have a six on Sydney?"

"Negative." Marshall said worriedly. "I've got a direct feed in the surveillance system and there's no sign of her."

"All right we're on our way back. We'll decide what to do from there."

"Excuse me," Juliana said. "I'm sorry to interrupt your crazy time, but what the hell is going on?!"

"It's kind of a long story." Dixon said.

"We're CIA," Nadia explained. "We're keeping tabs on a suspected Terrorist organization that we think wants to recruit you as an assassin."

"Apparently not that long." Vaughn smiled tightly.

* * *

Lane hung up the phone with a relieved sigh.

"Well?" Vexen asked. "Everything okay?"

"Emily and Jason got home fine, our mystery woman from the club is resting in stable condition. The hospital got in touch with her father. So it looks like everything's fine. Except that we lost our slayer."

"You'll find her again." The sidhe knight assured her.

"Mommy?" a voice said from the doorway. Lane sighed again and went to her daughter.

"What are you doing up you little blueberry?" she asked her.

"There's a monster under my bed." The girl told her solemnly. "And I had to go potty."

Lane smiled. "Well let's take care of that shall we?" Josephine went potty, Lane checked under the bed. Nothing. Not even when she used the flashlight Willow had charmed to reveal hidden creatures.

"Is it gone?" Josephine asked, coming back into the room.

"The coast is clear Blue."

"Five by five?"

Lane laughed. The kid had met Faith only once, and was already quoting her. "Yeah kid. Five by five." She tucked her daughter under the covers and laid down beside her.

"Will you sing to me?"

"Hey how could I deny my favorite audience?" Lane grinned. Stroking her child's head, she began to sing. "Tell the monster, that lives 'neath your bed, to go somewhere else instead. Or you'll kick him in the head. Tell the creature that lurks, behind the door, that if he knows what's good he won't come here no more, 'cause you're kicking his butt at the count of four. Goodnight, demon slayer, goodnight. Now it's time, to close your tired eyes. There's devils to slay and dragons to ride, when they see you comin' hell they better hide. Goodnight, goodnight, goodnight. Goodnight my little slayer, goodnight."

* * *

William's eyes shot open. Damn he hated getting shot. And nine times for chrissakes! That had taken some doing to heal. Long enough, apparently for the coroners to load him into their van.

He allowed himself a grin. Well, they would have some explaining to do wouldn't they. How could you lose a corpse right out from the back of your van? After all, it's not like it could have just gotten up and walked away is it.

He ripped open the body bag and stretched, sitting up. A tranquilizer dart embedded itself in his neck.

"Bloody hell." He managed to slur out before collapsing once more.

Jack Bristow calmly lowered the dart gun back into his lap.

**To Be Continued In Carpe Noctem: Expositionary Interrogations.**


End file.
